The Ward Job
by Flipping Seltzer
Summary: Teen Wolf as Leverage! When Derek Hale gets asked to supervise a con in Beacon Hills, he gets sucked back into a life and a town he was trying escape. Thieves, betrayal, librarians! Light sterek, tortured Derek, craziness. Crazy Thief!Lydia, Alpha!Derek, Magic Hacker!Danny, Hitter!Allison, Librarian!Stiles.


AN: This is my first Teen Wolf fic so be kind! I'm not sure if anyone else watched Leverage but I am freaking obsessed with that show. And as I was binge watching both Teen Wolf and Leverage (with a little Veronica Mars thrown in) this happened. Part 2 to be up Sunday!

This is an AU with Teen Wolf as Leverage. Absolutely no knowledge of Leverage needed! Very little Stiles in this section but I swear Part 2 will be Stiles heavy! I'm still working through characterization any ideas help! Also Allison Spencer= Allison Argent. All will be explained. :)

Blatant misuse of passive voice. Sorry. :o/ Also, grammatical errors are being fixed as you read- sorry for any rough sentences.

* * *

Part 1

**Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic**

**Day 2, night**

Present

Four figures walked confidently to the back (locked) doors of Beacon Hills veterinary clinic. About ten feet from the door one broke off, turning his back on the group to head into the forest abutting the parking lot. His dark jeans and black leather jacket allow him to sink into the darkness, disappearing into the inky night.

The other three walked right over the mountain ash line that is the buildings first line of defense. They are, however, stopped by the industrial metal door that is challenge number two. A dark haired, tanned young man knelt, pulling out a small tablet.

Danny Mahealani. 22. Technokenetic. (Alleged) hacker.

Unreeling wires from the tablets case he attached it in to the electronic keypad that will (hopefully) release the deadbolt, but it's slow going as every two seconds he glances up, scanning the empty lot for signs of life.

"There's no one there geek. Keep your eyes on the tech- no one's getting by me." The figure speaking is the tallest of the three, a striking woman with dark hair and chocolate-colored eyes. She casually leans on the wall of the clinic, eyes sweeping over the area with lazy practice.

Allison Argent Spencer. 23. Ex-hunter. Hitter for hire.

"Excuse me." Danny snipes, shoving the wires into place with a little more force than was absolutely needed, "but I don't know you. Why should I trust you?" He looks her up and down. "I don't even know what you do lady."

"I'm the muscle." She cattily replied, smirking.

Danny scoffs, "Sure you are."

"Children." Growls a deep voice from inside each of their ears. The comms crack as Derek Hale's tone warns them to be quiet. "You don't need to trust one another, you just need to work together. Danny stop worrying about Spencer and hack the lock." From the forest, Derek's eyes flash red. Allison tenses, then glares as the third member of their group chuckles at her uncomfort.

Although it's just as possible Lydia Martin is laughing at one of the voices in her head. "These are great." She snaps beside vibration activated comm in her ear. "I can hear everything."

Lydia Martin. 21. Banshee. Inflitrat...Breaking and Ente...Confid...Crazy bit... Thief.

"_You_ can hear nothing." The taller girl mocks, still leaning against the wall. Lydia's turning absently in small circles just out of view of the parking lot camera they'd avoided- the brunette's been avoiding her, concerned you could catch crazy.

"Can I keep it?" The redhead asks, pointedly ignoring the insult.

Danny grinned at her, happy that someone appreciates his work. "_You_ can keep two."

"Enough." Derek's graduated to snarling. "Danny if your machine can't crack that lock in thirty seconds do it yourself."

* * *

**Beacon Hills Dinner**

**Day 1, early morning**

39 Hours Ago Earlier...

Derek Hale. 28. Alpha werewolf... Occasional supernatural bounty hunter.

Derek was steadfastedly staring into his coffee, his eyebrows drawn down into what his sister called their 'murdery' position. It was doing nothing to discourage the balding, anxious hedgewitch who'd invited himself to sit at Derek's table. "Alpha Hale, please!" God the little man was laying it on thick. "They're taking away my lands. If you let Deaton and the other emissaries put up these wards outside of town they'll cut my claim in half. My magic will be crippled!"

It wasn't that Derek didn't sympathize. He did. After all, when he and his sister had fled after the fire, they'd felt the pain at breaking with the land. Crossing the border into Oregon, the farthest his pa had ever traveled together, had been physically crippling. (Although at the time his mental anguish had overwhelmed any physical regrets.) So it wasn't that he didn't understand- it was that he didn't care. Technically, this hedgewitch was well in his rights to plead to the local pack leader. In the larger scheme of Beacon Hills underground magical community, werewolves were high on the totem pole. The local high coven and vampire kiss were the only ones who could physically challenge him and most would respect his opinion over either of those megalomaniac organizations. Well... they'd respected his mother. They'd respected... respected Laura. But him? Despite the fact that no werewolf had taken up squatting rights in the Hills, Derek couldn't claim to have any say in matters when he was about to cut and run.

He pushed his plate of eggs away, toward the edge of the table, feeling nauseated and heavy. Mrs. Kolahan, the diners main waitress and proprietor came over to scoop up his unwanted leftovers. "All set dear?" She inquired, eyes pitying even as her tone was businesslike.

He looked down again, unwilling to deal with anyone else's feelings. "Yes ma'am." He muttered. He supposed pity was better than suspicion. His sister's death had been a body blow he wasn't prepared for and in typical Derek Hale fashion he'd been a total fuck up in its wake. Deputy McCall had been half convinced he'd murdered her and it was only Jackson Whitmore's (coerced) legal representation and Derek's credit card activity in New York that had convinced the stubborn lawman not to throw him in the cells. He tossed a crumpled ten dollar bill on the table, grabbing his keys and staring to slid out of the booth.

"Wait!" The hedgewitch, Dylan Walsh, grabbed his arm feebly. Derek glanced down at the arm and then looked up meaningfully at Walsh. The man quickly removed his hand but spoke urgently. "You can't leave me at Deaton's mercy! When you went to Emissaries for help, after your family died, they turned you and your sister away." He seemed uncomfortable, knowing he was overstepping but desperate enough to not care about the consequences.

Derek gripped the side of the table, feeling the linoleum crack under his grip as he tried to control the shift. "You the part of the conversation where I rip out your throat with my teeth? We're coming up on that pretty soon." He growled.

"I'm sorry!" The witch squeaked. "I'm sorry but I need your help! Blake is running me out of town! I need serious help! Look, look at all the people I already hired!" Walsh desperately thrust a file at Derek, who accepted it mainly out of habit, but also with a hint of curiosity. "Do you recognize any of these names?"

Even a cursory glance at the papers told him that the hedgewitches plan wasn't going to work. "Yea. I've run them all out of one town, one time or another." He flipped through to the third man. "Lydia?" He scoffed in surprise, "You have Lydia Martin?"

"Why? Is that a problem?" Walsh asked anxiously. "Is there somebody better?"

"No," Derek hedged, "but Lydia is insane." He looked at the headshot of the beautiful redhead, shaking his head as he considered the girls unique mix of instability and brilliance. He flipped through the pages. "A banshee, a technokenetic, and," he paused, examining the last crew member closely, his mind going to unhappy memories, "a hunter?"

"Yes!" Walsh said loudly, before lowering his voice and leaning closer, conspiratorially. "Three of the best thieves in the business. And they're all at the top of their games, supernaturally, right?" The new Alpha had to concede that. He and Laura had made a good living chasing down supernatural thieves and evil-doers- for a hefty fee of course. But they'd never been able to catch any of Walsh's picks. Even Lydia, who blatantly set up shop in her childhood home, has been so good at covering her tracks they couldn't pin anything on her. "And I know that the hunter, Spencer, might make you uncomfortable, but I have it on very good authority that she's split from the life, purely in the protection/retrieval business these days."

"So what do you need me for? If you've already got this crack team." He pushed the folder back to his unwanted companion.

Walsh grinned, clearly thinking Derek was going to agree. "I need an honest man. I need a leader to watch them. Make sure they don't get any ideas and cause chaos."

Derek closed his eyes as the words assaulted him. He was sure that the man was being complimentary, that he thought he was flattering Derek, but all the wolf was feeling was sick to stomach. "I'm no leader Mr. Walsh." He was as far from an honest man as anyone could get. His stomach turned and Derek suddenly regretted the full breakfast he'd forced down in preparation of a long drive.

"You're an Alpha." Walsh countered, uncomprehending.

"My sister was an Alpha." Derek said, finally, "You're going to have to find someone else. I'm leaving."

He stood but the hedgewitch's next words made him pause. "What if I told you that Blake was working with the Argents? She's working with the hunters that killed your family."

* * *

**Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic**

**Day 2, night (again)**

Danny frowns as he fiddles with his equipment. "I'd rather not force it this early. I might need a jolt or two to brake the safe." But it was for naught, because seconds later the door popped open as the machine entered the correct pass code. "That's a good girl." The handsome man grinned, gathering his things and following the two girls in.

He and Allison went left, toward Alan Deaton's office and the safe where the complicated wards and warding material were stored. Lydia broke off to the left moving to the kennel, where the dogs and cats were already beginning make noise. A few quick brushes of her hand and pulse of her power disabled a few of Deaton's more magical security protocols. "Going silent." She pleasantly murmurs, informing them that she was at the kennels and would use her voice to keep the animals quiet. A quick adjustment to her earpiece meant she could hear the others but they couldn't hear her.

"Careful Lydia. Keep it quiet." Derek warns. While the kennels were somewhat soundproofed, the woman would still have to sing low so the sound wouldn't carry to Danny and Allison.

Lydia specialized in unique displays of power. While she could, like all of her kind, sense and harbor death, she had worked on expanding the limitations of her power- to further her own means. While her normal speaking voice was powerful and commanding, she'd found that her singing could compel. She'd be singing the animals to silence and sleep while Danny and Allison broke into the office.

"Status?" Derek asks the other half of the break in team.

"At the office doors." Spencer replied. "Picking the lock now." The office door was a basic lock- after having both Danny and Allison practice on the door of the nearby high school, Derek had decided to have the hunter take charge of this non-technological task.

"I could have done it." Danny mutters sulkily.

Derek sighs, wishing the mountain ash around the building didn't stop him from supervising in person. "Just... save it for the safe Danny." He hated this. He hated talking and not being in control and being in the Hills and dealing with Deaton... he just... "no unnecessary chatter on the comms."

"Aw," Danny comments, his poor temper overwhelming his usually pleasant temperament. "The all-important Alpha doesn't want to talk to us. He doesn't want to be our friend."

Derek could feel his neck flushing, unhappy at being called out, but more embarrassed that he couldn't keep a handle on the younger man. "No more talking Danny."

"Inside... and at the safe." Spencer broke in, her voice quiet and even. "I'm heading to the front to watch the door." And then there actually was silence, as all three of the break in crew were on task. Derek isn't sure he like the quiet any better. He strains his senses, trying to pick out Danny and Allison in the building. He accidently picks up Lydia, in the muffled kennel, and has to quickly turn down his hearing before his mind clouded with sleep. So he's startled when he hears running and Allison's quiet, "trouble."

"What?" he asks, just keeping a lid on his panic.

"Deaton's here. Looks like another car followed him. I think I heard a dog- maybe an emergency."

Danny swears, saying. "I'm not done with the safe yet!"

The hunter/security snaps, "well you better be done by the time I get there or I'm leaving you behind."

"Excuse me!" Lydia chimes in, having turned her comm back on. The dogs are snuffling to life, Derek could hear a few huffs and barks in the background. "And what about me? I'm the one who can reset Deaton's wards!"

"I'm the one with an exit!" Allison replies, somewhat vindictively.

"And I'm the one with the merchandise!" Danny cries victoriously, metal safe clanging as he flung it open.

Derek taps his ear, causing them all the cry out in pain as feedback from the comm screeched in their ears. "And I'm the one with the exit strategy." He says confidently. While he felt he was flying blind so far as plans went, he was damn good at getting out of trouble when they inevitability failed. "Lydia get out of there. Deaton will expect the dogs to bark when he come in, we don't need to keep them quiet. Reset the most obvious of the wards, don't worry about the rest. If it is an emergency Deaton won't have the time or privacy to investigate the rest. Allison make sure Deaton doesn't head into the back. He'll probably stay in the front exam rooms- if not, know him out. _Nothing more_. Danny get to the back door and start resetting the locks. Then you all go out together."

A few minutes later they're all safely hidden in the treeline. A little farther into the forest, Spencer had hidden a four-wheeler earlier that day. The hunter turns on the headlights and the crew looks at Derek expectantly. He holds out his hand for the box of warding material Danny handed him. He checks that the complicated sigils were on the paper and that Walsh's hair and blood are tucked into the velvet pouch. "Okay. I'll get this to Walsh now. The money will be in your accounts as soon as he gets the box."

Lydia purrs, "be honest, didn't you have a little fun being on the wrong side of the law?"

"It was pretty cool all working together." Danny adds.

"No we are not on the same side. I am not a thief." Derek frowns. A murderer and a fool, perhaps, but not a thief.

Ignoring his denial, the redhead smiles at the hacker fondly before looking back at Derek. "You are now. Come on Derek, tell the truth, didn't you have a little bit of fun playing the black king instead of the white night, just this once?" With that, the three criminals scattered.

Derek walked away, into the forest, shaking his head at his own stupid gullibility. The second he steps foot in this town it's like nothing's changed.

* * *

**Motel 6, Pasadena **

**Day 3, early morning**

Derek moans as his cell phone startles him awake. He grabs the obnoxious thing and hefts it in his palm, considering throwing it into the wall. But no, too much hassle. He flips it open and mutters, "what," before shoving his face back into the cheap hotel pillow.

"You betrayed me!" Walsh's scandalized voice screeches at him from the device. Derek rolls over, confused.

"No I brought you the box last night. I fucking handed it to you at one in the morning."

The witch was practically hyperventilating into the phone. "No, no, no! You gave be bullshit! This box is full of fakes! One of you stole it!"

"Why would we do that!" It's too damn early in the morning to deal with this.

"To sell it back to the emissaries, to use yourself!? I don't know but it had to be one of you. And so you get nothing! No money! None of you."

Normally Derek wouldn't care, but four grand was a lot of money, and it had been his job to get the box to Walsh- if the others didn't get paid it would look like he cheated them. Having those three out to get him would be a disaster. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Let's meet at your house."

"Absolutely not!" Walsh hedged. "The coven and the emissaries are watching me- let's meet at one of the warehouses. The abandoned one on Beech. No one will be over there."

Derek sighs, already dreading the drive back. "It'll take me a couple hours to get back."

"In four hours then! That should give you time to convince the rest of those liars to the warehouse! I want answers!"

**Abandoned Warehouse**

**Day 3, afternoon**

When Derek arrives, he heads into the place dreading the confrontation. Handling stress and failure are not his strong point- he tends to revert to one of two standby's: angry or detached.

Inside, he could hear voices shouting. "What the hell did you do!" Danny yells.

Derek sighs, listening to Spencer's calm voice retort, "Me? _You_ were the one alone with the box."

The Alpha walks in, sighing as he saw the hacker pointing a gun at the hitter. Spencer seems unconcerned, a bored frustration flashing across her heart-shaped face. "Aren't you worried about that?" Derek asks absently. He wasn't worried- the gun didn't smell like wolfsbane so the bullets wouldn't hurt him, even if Danny was stupid enough to fire.

The ex-hunter shrugs. "The safety's on."

"It is not!" Danny blustered.

Derek glanced at the gun. "It is actually." The hacker turned the gun, moving it away from its target and Spencer grabbed it, quickly removing the bullet from the chamber. Derek turned to her. "Are you carrying?" He asked, feeling awkward.

She cracked her neck, apparently feeling the strangeness of the situation as well. "No. I don't like guns." The anymore was unsaid.

"Where's my money?" Lydia glided in, her red nails like talons at her side. Her words were sweet but her eyes were cold. Everyone in the room tensed. A single scream from the girl could do serious damage to them all. "Without it I get all sad inside." She tilts her head, expression dangerous.

"Walsh claims the wards in the box were fake. He won't pay us until-"

Lydia cut him off. "_He_ won't pay us? That's why we're _all_ here?" She started laughing. "He...we..." She bent over, almost gasping.

Spencer eyed her warily. "She's finally cracked."

Uncomfortable, Danny backed away but Derek moved closer, eyeing Lydia and looking around the room. "All of us..." he mused. Lydia was starting to look a little panicked. "The only to get all of here was to..." He looked at Allison and Danny, who seemed to come to the same conclusion moments after Derek.

Walsh was going to kill them all. As one they started to run toward the exit.

Then it all went black.

**Beacon Hills Hospital**

**Day 3, evening**

Derek came back to himself all at once, a habit of being hunted. He laid quietly for a moment, trying to get his bearings. Antiseptic, monitors, a constant low murmur outside the door- hospital.

"Done?" Spencer's dry voice interrupted his musings.

He glanced up and glared at her, in no mood for annoyances. Ignoring her, he pulled at the handcuff binding his wrist. He could break it easily but it would ruin the bed enough that the human members of the police force might ask questions.

"You know that ignoring me isn't going to make this easier." Allison pushed. "We need to get out of here." She clinked her own handcuffs, confining her to a chair.

Derek glared at her. "You really think I'm going to work with you?"

"I don't really think you have a choice. They'll process us soon and then Scott will show up. And I really doubt that Deputy Dawg is going to let you go with a warning again?"

"I'd rather go to jail." He bit out.

She was quiet for a moment. "I am sorry you know. For what happened."

"Fuck. You." The words came out quiet, but he could feel himself changing and in his head it's a scream. He hates her, more than anything. He looks at her and remembers how fucking stupid and naive he could be. When they were both pretending it was easier. But now she's not playing anymore. She's not pretending and he wants to slit her throat.

More than anything though, he wants to slit Walsh's throat. That little witch had played him, used his family to set him off his guard, used Allison-fucking-Argent to make him uneasy. And he'd fallen for the distraction (again) because he's a terrible leader. "Fuck me." He says, quiet enough that she can't hear it but when he chances a look it seems like she didn't need too.

Five uncomfortable minutes later Lydia sashays into the room, handcuff keys twirling on her fingers. He doesn't ask.

But he did smile when he passed Scott McCall by the nurse's station. The frantic officer looked like he's about to tear out his own curls. He ignores Allison's fond coo of, "poor baby," out of professional curtsey.

**Derek's Loft**

**Day 3, night**

Laura and Derek kept an apartment in Beacon Hills out of a combination of nostalgia and convenience (Peter's nurses don't like them sleeping on the unit) and he's grateful he didn't sell it as they gather in his apartment.

"Nice place." Danny's compliment goes over his head as Derek stares at the computer, tying to figure out what the hacker is doing. "Monaco Lydia?" The Hawaiian boy asks.

"You know it." Lydia's doing her nails, sitting on his kitchen counter. He's not sure where the polish came from but after seeing her produce the nail file he doesn't want to know.

"Monaco?"

Danny nods, fingers flying over the keys. "And London and Paris and freaking Cape Town. First class tickets to anywhere that isn't here."

"You're running." His voice is flat again, but the undercurrent of rage has Allison and Danny staring at him.

The hunter raises a brow. "And what do you expect us to do? I'm not sure what Walsh is but a hedgewitch he is not. That was serious magical energy- he _blew up_ the _warehouse_. He thinks he killed us, and I for one, am happy to stay dead.

"Besides, even if we wanted to stop him," Danny adds, "none of us have magic that powerful. Unless he's writing out his spells on a laptop I'm basically a glorified nerd-herder and Lydia's ability to suppress is kind of limited to herself."

"If you start running, you'll never stop." Derek bit out between clenched teeth.

Lydia spoke up, "says the guy who was halfway to Mexico this morning."

Derek takes a deep breath and tries to channel his mother and Laura. "I know this is my f-fault." He stutters a little, unhappy with all eyes on him and having to admit his mistake. "I should have smelled the lies and backed out before we even got here. But whatever was in that box must have been important and I don't know what it is, but I know it shouldn't be in Walsh's hands. And we gave it him. So I want to take it back. And I want to tear his freaking throat out."

There's silence and then Allison's voice. "And what do I get out of this?"

"Payback, and if it goes well, a whole lot of money." She tilts her head and nods at him.

He looks at Danny, who shrugs. "I was just going to ruin his credit history, but what the hell, I'm in."

"Lydia?" Derek asks.

She sucks air through her teeth and stares at him. "And what's in it for me, sir-growls-a-lot?"

"A whole lot of money. And if it goes right, payback." She grins. It is terrifying, but Derek pushes past the instinctual terror it inspires to consider his options. After a few minutes of seriously considering his life choices, he makes a decision. "We need Stiles." He says, determinedly, and leads the way out of the warehouse.

Behind him, the three paused for a moment before following him, Lydia muttering, "What the hell is a stiles?"


End file.
